


he blinded me with science

by nifeandaccurate (12AM)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Gen, M/M, nothing explicit though, scenes from the robot future, warnings for mentions of knives and violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5684899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/12AM/pseuds/nifeandaccurate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is a commercial robot, built for entertainment and pleasure. Yusuf runs away with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by a romance book I read years ago, [The Silver Metal Lover](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/567708.The_Silver_Metal_Lover). (I know, that title...) This is also sort of related to [my other robot!Arthur AU](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5615866), but it's not quite in the same universe, so let's just say they're tangentially related. 
> 
> And as always, you can hit me up on [tumblr](https://nifeandaccurate.tumblr.com).

 

Arthur stands to the side and watches as Yusuf methodically dips the brush into the tin and paints himself silver. When he's done, Arthur steps in closer and holds his arm out against Yusuf's, skin warm against metal. The only difference between them now is the smooth, burnished finish of Arthur's skin against Yusuf's work-worn arms.

"Now we match," Yusuf smiles, the dry paint pulling on his cheeks. Arthur returns the action, an echo more than a response.

"Are you ready?" he asks, picking up the guitar from the ground.

"As I'll ever be," Yusuf replies.

 

They're really not very good, Yusuf thinks to himself, as Arthur strums out a song and he attempts to harmonize. But the robot gimmick makes people stop and maybe the weariness shows on his face and compels a few of them toss some money into their hat. He can't go back to his lab even if he wanted to though, and there isn't any legal work for thieves.

So instead they're out on the street, trying to make enough to cover rent for a one bedroom apartment. Between the two of them, they don't own much. A few changes of clothes, several tomes of Yusuf's most important texts, and some tools. 

It's almost alarmingly simple, the way it's all folded down together. In the morning, Yusuf eats jam on toast and they come out onto the street, in an almost hidden away corner, away from the eyes of the police making their rounds. Arthur plays the guitar and Yusuf tries to sing and they stay out as late as they can. 

Some days a crowd gathers and they save up the coins for the next rent payment. Other days barely anyone stops to watch and they walk home quietly. 

A coin bounces off the wall a bit too close to Yusuf's head and he flinches away. "Watch it," Arthur calls out, tone friendly but steel underneath. He changes the tune to something softer and gentler, and the crowd relaxes.

Arthur's not built for fighting but he can hold his own. One night they had walked home, coins clinking together in their pockets a little too loudly. Two men came out of an alleyway in front of them and Arthur tensed, moving to stand in front of Yusuf.

One of the men shot a hand out and Arthur grabbed him by the wrist before it could land. Arthur squeezed tight and Yusuf could almost hear the metal groaning as the man let out a shout. Arthur let go and the man fell back, cradling his wrist and shooting a glare. The other man pulled out a knife from his jacket but his partner pushed him back with a hand on his chest.

“Forget them,” he said and they slinked away as quietly as they appeared.

That night, Yusuf tossed and turned, sheets wound tight around his legs. He finally fell asleep listening to the sounds of Arthur moving around in the other room.

 

Sometimes at night, Yusuf takes Arthur apart.

They know they're living on borrowed time. Arthur wasn't built to last. One day, whatever internal mechanisms that power Arthur will simply stop, and Yusuf won't know how to fix him. He's a scientist, after all, not a mechanic. So whenever they have time left at the end of the day, when the sun hasn't gone down and there's still oil in the lamps, Yusuf takes out a small set of screwdrivers and wrenches and carefully opens Arthur up at his seams.

It's getting late but the candle's still burning so Yusuf keeps tinkering. He takes a break, putting aside the pliers to wipe his glasses clean. When he puts them back on, he catches Arthur's gaze.

"What does it feel like?" he asks belatedly. He's distantly ashamed that he hasn't asked before now if these late night experiments hurt Arthur; he never had a good bedside manner.

"I don't know if I can describe it," Arthur says, sounding dazed. "I think this is how dreaming feels." 

Yusuf smiles, lab goggles rising up at the motion, and keeps working.

 

The first night, Yusuf's sitting up in bed, skimming through a research paper when Arthur comes and sits on the edge. 

"Oh, that's right," Yusuf startles, "I'm sorry I didn't ask earlier, but do you need to sleep or--"

He breaks off as Arthur places a hand on his thigh. Arthur moves closer, something indescribable playing across his face. His other hand brushes by Yusuf's cheek and he leans in, looking into his eyes.

"Um," says Yusuf. 

Arthur freezes. His face goes blank and he moves back. "Maybe I misunderstood," Arthur says, politely detached. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Oh blast it," Yusuf says. "I probably should have said something earlier. Arthur, you don't have to _do_  anything for me.”

He moves his papers to the side so he can properly face Arthur. "When I saw you, I thought you were amazing. And when I heard they were thinking of taking you apart for scraps, I couldn’t let that happen.”

"I realize I probably should have asked you," Yusuf continues sheepishly, "but I couldn't stand seeing them talk about you like that."

Arthur blinks. “It’s of no difference to me whether I exist or not.”

“Do you want me to take you back?” Yusuf asks.

Arthur stares at him for a long moment. "How strange," he says, finally, "asking a robot what it wants." He doesn't sound offended, only amused. He gets up and leaves the room, but not before saying, "In response to your earlier question, I don't sleep," over his shoulder.

 

They're out walking in the street together when they turn a corner and there's a crowd of people holding signs and chanting. Arthur frowns and turns on his heel, ushering Yusuf along. Yusuf cranes his head back but lets himself be propelled forward.

"What are they doing?" he asks, curious. 

"It's a protest," Arthur says, voice tight. "An anti-robot demonstration." Yusuf turns to look at him and Arthur seems tense. There's the sound of glass breaking behind them, and Arthur speeds up.  His knit hat is pulled low over his ears and the afternoon light is dim enough so that the shine of his skin is barely visible. 

They round another corner and Yusuf asks, voice low, "Have you seen them before?" 

"The second time I was brought out," Arthur says, "they were waiting for me. They were upset that we were made to look and act human. They're fine with us when we have visible ports and puckered seams and offer to carry their bags, but as soon as we look human, we're a threat. After that run-in, the repairs took three days." 

Out of the corner of his eye, Yusuf spots a policeman coming in their direction and he acts without thinking. He pulls Arthur behind him into an alleyway and then covers his body with his own. His arms bracket Arthur’s head as he quickly shushes him, listening to the footsteps outside get closer.

There’s something like fear in Arthur’s eyes and Yusuf wants to reassure him but he can’t find the words. He closes his eyes as the footsteps reach their hiding spot and when the sounds pause for a second, he loses the air in his lungs.

Then the moment passes and the footsteps fade away and he opens his eyes again to Arthur examining his face, dangerously close. Yusuf takes a step back and gestures to the mouth of the alley. “I’m sorry about that,” he offers, looking away.

“Don’t be,” Arthur replies, and they walk home together.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't find a place to fit this scene in organically, so here it is.

Yusuf shows up on Eames’ doorstep at four in the morning, a suitcase in one hand and a stolen robot by his side. When Eames opens the door, he takes one look at Arthur and freezes.

“Christ, Yusuf,” he says, “You didn’t tell me that you were planning on stealing a PASIV model.”

“Um,” Yusuf replies, shooting wary glances behind him, “can we have this talk inside?”

“Yeah, sure, come on in,” Eames says, waving them in distractedly. He locks the door behind them and shows them to his living room. They sit down in silence. Eames is watching Arthur with a strange expression on his face.

After a beat, Eames leans forward and asks, “You’re Arthur, right?”

Arthur nods, and Eames plows on, “We met a few months ago, back in the labs before the PASIVs went commercial. I was a test subject, do you remember me?”

“I don’t have access to those memory files,” Arthur says, “I’m afraid I don’t remember you.”

For a second, Eames looks disappointed. He recovers with a smile and shaking his head. “I should have figured. Anyways, what can I do for you, Yusuf?”

 


End file.
